Of Gestures and Assumptions
by jeanoviva
Summary: A one-shot that tells a story about the odd gesture of a certain nation and how another nation took it in different way.


It was a sunny day out when Francis Bonnefoy, the personification of France, has decided to pay his Spanish friend a visit. See, it has been awhile since they had last seen each other due to the countless things they need to attend to. If memory served him right, the last time he visited Antonio was when Gilbert and himself went off to see the island nation he found in Asia, _Las Islas Filipinas_.

Ah yes, that time he couldn't look at Antonio straight in the eye because he was bragging like a five year old and it was pissing him off a little and he was somewhat envious of the new colony he has gained. Well, he did mention that the little nation was a slightly like Feliciano Vargas, the northern half of Italy. That prospect simply made him all the more jealous. The lucky bastard, he though then. Though unlikely, he was skeptical and thought that Spaniard was lying just to make them jealous.

All the more, when he actually met the little colony, he concluded that Spain was lying. The little nation was _nothing_ like Feliciano Vargas. He is _literally_ the carbon copy of Spain, personality wise. Although he is more polite and hospitable and judging by Antonio's stories about the young nation, he does have a little similarity with Italy. So he wasn't completely lying after all, he thought then.

Francis sighed as he wiped the beads of sweat the trickled from his features. Why did it have to be so hot today? As he neared the stone fence of his friend's house, he could see a little figure by the shade of a tree. He looked no older than six.

_Could it be him?_

Francis squinted his eyes as he tried his best to make out some of his features. Chocolate brown hair, sun kissed skin; the child is holding a familiar looking object- No, not an object, but a fruit! Yes, the last time he had seen that fruit was during his last meeting with Antonio. As soon as Francis was sure of the child's identity, an uncanny smile made their way onto his lips.

_Speak of the Devil~ Ohnhonhonhon~_

The blonde haired nation detoured his way to the back side of the stone fence. He climbed over without a problem and silently made his way to the tree where the Asian fidgeted with the knife as he tried his best to cut the yellow fruit in half. When he was merely a few inches away from the child, he swiftly caught him from behind, causing the younger to gasp in surprise. He dropped his items and squirmed to get away from him.

"Hello there, little Juan~"

As soon as he spoke, the child stopped squirming in his arms and turned his head to look at his captor with a cherubic and child-like smile gracing his features.

"Ginoong Bonnefoy!"

The young nation took one of Francis's hand and raised them till his forehead reached his knuckles before throwing himself onto the elder for a hug. Francis's has never been so happy in his life. Normally, younger nations like Juan were forbidden by their parental figure to come near him due to his… Antics. Or they simply don't want to because he's a creep. Although if it was Feliciano…Maybe. However, this was different. To have a child cuddle himself willingly onto his grasp was a miracle and Francis decided that he should value it while he still can.

"So how have you been, Ginoong Bonnefoy?" The Filipino child asked politely as began playing around with Francis's hair. The older of the two chuckled.

"Please, call me Uncle Francis~ and I am well. I came here to visit your Papa. Do you know where he is?"

The child looked at Francis in the eyes, blinking his brown chocolate orbs before his slightly pinkish lips puckered up.

There was a moment of silence.

Francis stared blankly at Juan.

The older nation didn't know what it meant. Well actually he did. The child wanted a kiss, _obviously_. But can he do it? He has kissed many people of both genders on the lips. It was no hassle for him. However, this was different. This was a _child_, for god's sake! Not even Matthew or Feliciano puckered up their lips for him! He knew it was illegal but _god_ did he look so cute and irresistible.

With each passing second, his face grew hotter. His mind confused.

Should he follow _his morals_ or would he risk hurting the poor child's feelings?

At the thought of hurting the child's feelings, he immediately did the logical thing to do.

He kissed him.

Square on the lips.

Juan touched his lips and blinked. He looked towards Francis before he giggled. The Frenchman gave out a relieved sigh as he watched the giggling nation play with his hair once more. Relieved that he did the right step and made the younger happy. Juan looked more adorable being happy. Francis cuddled him closer before he spoke once more.

"Hmmm. We should really get going now. I wonder where is your Papa…" he thought aloud and soon enough he found himself looking at Juan again, his lips puckered up. Francis grinned before he pecked the younger one on the lips once again.

This lasted for awhile. Every time Francis asked where Antonio was, Juan would pucker up his lips and he would gladly kiss the younger nation. He really didn't understand why and only when he'd ask about his father's whereabouts did he do such a gesture but as long as he could peck him on the lips, he doesn't mind at all.

"But honestly young one, where do you think Antonio is right now?" he asked for the eighteenth time and once again, Juan puckered up his lips for the eighteenth time. Hugging the younger nation closer, he was about to kiss him again when felt a strong grip on his shoulder.

"_Oi_, what the hell do you think you are doing to my son, _amigo_?" a low Spanish accented voice spoke from behind him.

France dared to turn his head and was met by the sight of Spain and his other colony, Neuva Espania.

Antonio with an eerie smile on his features.

A battle axe in one hand.

And Alejandro cracking his knuckles.

Francis went pale at the sight. From the corner of his eye, he could still see Juan, unfazed by the evil intent his father and brother radiated in the atmosphere and still puckering up his lips though it was pointed towards Antonio.

_Ah._

It only dawned to Francis now that Juan was actually pointing to Antonio. With his lips. But that didn't matter now. He had another ordeal to face; specifically speaking, surviving the wrath of a father and a brother.

_Holy shit._

* * *

Since then, Juan was banned from keeping in touch with Francis. And till this day, much to the annoyance of Juan, Antonio and Alejandro make sure that the Filipino and the Frenchman never cross paths. At all.

* * *

_Ginoo/Ginoong: Mister_

**A/N: Okay, we have to admit that we Filipinos have the habit of pointing with our lips and I have read a few F!Piri fics with this kind of scenario and the other character would be America. So yeah, because I am born high, I have decided that instead of America, it's France. Instead of a F!Piri, it's an M!Piri. And instead of a grown woman, I made France look like a pedophile. Because I'm higher than a motherfucker. Deal with it.**

**Yes, this is my headcanon for France and Piri. And yes, this has no historical accuracy. **

**I don't own anything except Juan, Alejandro and this fan fiction.**


End file.
